Of Love and Duty
by anaemicfaeries
Summary: Okita remembers a time when he was determined to fight, despite being poor. A place that wasn't his but became his home. People who seemed enemies yet became his friends. And a surprising love that wasn't received but earned.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Peacemaker Kurogane belongs to Nanae Chrono.

A/N: This story will follow the Roushigumi/Shinsengumi timeline..so it'll be _based_ on historical events and accounts, but won't be 100 percent accurate.

**Prologue**

Mibu, 1865.

Dawn.

Like dyed silk hung out to dry, soft pastel colours merge in the sky, creating a shade that has Kyoto sweet makers envious, as they mix in vain attempts to capture the fleeting. Most fail, and yet one succeeded. Once. But as surely as dawn disappears to make way for day, she too has disappeared.

Dawn though, is never lost.

The lemony pink skies are reborn with every morning, and so are his memories of her.

Amidst the growing light, Okita Souji trudged onwards, his gait somewhat awkward due to the heavy brown packages in his arms. There was a stillness to the early morning mist, and the only sounds were those of his wooden geta, and the faint chirping of sparrows. He looked deceptively childish, as he always did, with no sword through his obi, and no tie in his hair. This morning however, his smile lacked brightness, and his eyes seemed far older than his age.

Upon reaching his destination, Okita turned to watch the last remnants of pink fade into blue sky. He found himself wondering how it would feel to be truly alone. To lie on a bed somewhere, with only an an open window for company. To watch the sun rise and wonder if it was the last time.

Chilled by the silence of his surroundings, Okita shivered and quickened towards the Yagi compond's entrance. He didn't need to think about being alone, for one day he believed he would be. One day soon, if the little man who sat on his chest didn't leave. It was best to appreciate what he had left, and he was grateful for all of it.

He was grateful for his friends, he was grateful that he could still fight..

...and he was grateful for the time he'd had with her.

The weariness in his eyes seemed to fade as he remembered her warm smile. The ache in his chest lessened. There was not a day that went by, that he didn't remember. He didn't think he could ever forget that year, 1863. So many events had taken place, events that had set in motion his destiny, in small and intricate ways, when he had no way of knowing.

And he remembered it all like it were yesterday.


	2. Journey of the Roshigumi

Disclaimer: Peacemaker Kurogane belongs to Nanae Chrono.

**Chapter One: Journey of the Roushigumi**

Honsho, February 10, 1863.

Three days had passed since the Roushigumi, headed by one patriotic Kiyokawa Hachiro, left Edo to pursue their dream of protecting Kyoto. Travelling by foot to the Capital was not an easy journey, but it was one the men were willing to endure in order to help defend the Shogunate and Kyoto from foreign powers, as Kiyokawa so passionately informed them.

"We will show the foreigners what happens when they try and attack us!" Kiyokawa shouted at regular intervals, especially when men began losing morale. This had happened a few times, the most recent being when he had taken a wrong turn and they had walked for what had seemed an eternity, before having to walk all the way back. "Samurai, peasants, merchants, it doesn't matter! We swordsman are now united under one purpose and _one_ purpose only, to defend our great country!"

And then the men would pump their fists in the air, and let out a simultaneous war cry, their legs surging forward with pride and determination. But since it would take them about sixteen days to reach Kyoto, it seemed inevitable that the mood would not be always be so brotherly and unified, one Yamanami Keisuke had observed.

He was proven right when, on the third night of their travel, the men who had volunteered to arrange lodging had accidentally left one person out.

"What an embarrassing mistake."

Kondo Isami sighed, regret shining in his usually warm brown eyes. "To think I forgot someone! And I had been so confident that everyone was covered." He paced restlessly in the small lodging, stopping every now and then to peer out the window at the figure kindling a fire in the yard. "The poor fellow!"

There was a muffled giggle from the direction of Hijikata Toshizo though it was hard to tell if it was him, because Harada Sanosuke and Okita Souji were also bunched up next to him, somehow sharing the one cotton blanket they had been assigned. Kondo and the mild mannered Tokutaro had been the ones to arrange lodgings, and yet, out of two hundred and fifty men, they had forgotten one Kamo Serizawa, a samurai from Mito.

"If only he had been a peasant, or merchant," Kondo grumbled. "Then he wouldn't have been so offended."

"Well, there are so many of us," remarked Okita, the humour in his tone an obvious sign that it was he who had laughed. "I'm surprised only one man was left out."

"Even worse," muttered Kondo wearily. "The fellow must think I targeted him specifically."

"Don't worry, Kondo-san," Okita assured him. "Serizawa-san said himself he was quite happy to sleep outside, didn't he?"

Hijikata snorted.

"...and really, he's luckier than all of us, because he'll be the warmest with that fire."

"Personally, I agree with Kondo-san," Harada muttered, scratching his chest. "He doesn't seem like the kind of man who'd think his situation _lucky_. Did you forget about yesterday, Souji? He started a fight with someone because he said they looked at him funny! Hell, he broke the man's nose!"

"But he was really drunk," said Okita.

"That's not an excuse," grumbled Hijikata. "If he's a violent drunk, he shouldn't drink. Simple as that."

He frowned. "It's starting to smell like smoke in here."

"Oh," murmured Kondo suddenly, stepping closer towards the window. "That doesn't look too good..."

"What is it?" asked Hijikata, standing up.

"Well, er..." Kondo rubbed the back of his neck as he turned, clearly uncomfortable. "Is it just me, or does that look like a really big fire?"

Okita's eyes widened as Kondo moved away from the window, giving them a clear display of what was going on outside. The fire they were staring at was large and agressive, the flames were leaping up to an abnormal height, and as it was right in the middle of all the yards, it would probably burn all of the residences down. The man who had started it did not seem agitated at all. Instead, he continued to throw wood into the fire, making the flames leap even higher.

Hijikata swore, wrinkling up his nose as the stench of smoke increased. He started to cough. The air inside their room was now suffocating.

Harada lurched to his feet, wearing an expression of disbelief.

"We have to get out there!" he shouted, sliding the fusama open and stumbling outside. "We have to put it out!"

In a daze, Kondo wordlessly followed after him.

Hijikata grabbed the shocked Okita by the back of his gi, and ignoring his indignant protest, shoved through the doorway and firmly slid the screen shut behind them.

The corridor was packed. Men were yelling as they dashed out of their rooms. The place erupted in chaos in just a matter of minutes. Samurai were rushing to and fro, grabbing buckets of water and clambouring onto the rooftops to put out the fire. It was not only them, but also the lodge owners, and nearby farmers.

Oblivious to the danger, Serizawa shouted, "I have it under control, you monkeys! Throw away your buckets and go back to sleep!"

When a goverment officer came onto the scene, ordering him to put out the fire, the samurai struck him with his iron fan.

From the rooftop, Okita looked on in amazement. He'd never seen anything like this before! It was all very surreal. Of course, he would have liked to help put out the fire, but Hijikata had firmly stated that he should just sit there and let the older men handle it.

He peered down at another figure entering the scene below.

"Kondo-san.."

"Serizawa, listen to me!" Kondo yelled at the top of his lungs. "We _must_ put out this fire! I apologise a thousand times for what happened, but if we don't put it out, we'll all be injured and this town will be destroyed! Surely, you don't want that to happen?"

Eventually, the mad samurai was convinced and the fire put out.

Exhausted, soot covered men staggered back to their rooms and fell into their futons, too tired to wash, and too irritated to care. Farmers went back to their homes, the enraged lodge owners were calmed down and they too went back to their rooms.

The yelling subsided, and even Serizawa was squashed into a room with some of his comrades, for fear of him trying something else.

Okita stayed awake for most of the night, unable to sleep. He kept staring in the direction of the window, seeing the fire in his mind, and blinking in astonishment at the night's events. Most of his comrades had been angry, Hijikata had stated how he wanted to rip the samurai apart limb from limb, Harada had expressed his desire to spear him, and even the young Todou Heisuke had trembled in anger, for one moment Souji had been convinced he was going to actually slay the man.

Personally, Okita hadn't felt any anger.

Just astonishment, disbelief, and yes, even a little excitement. In his whole life, he hadn't witnessed a grown man cause such chaos before. And though it was very rude what Serizawa had done, and even frightening, he couldn't help but think what an interesting man he was.

IIIIIIIII

Mibu Village, February 23, 1863.

It was a quiet night in Mibu, except for the loud and animated voices coming from the estate of Gennojo Yagi. None of the villagers were surprised, for only a few hours before, a group of swordsmen had arrived all the way from Edo.

Although there was much noise, the people found themselves drifting off to a sound sleep. It was reassuring to know that brave men were arriving from all the provinces, willing and determined to protect their majestic Capital. For now, the people believed in and trusted them.

Kondo's group of Sheikian Dojo members were exhausted as they sat in one of the main rooms, drinking and dining. Exhausted yet feeling very accomplished. For sixteen days they had travelled, and now their journey had come to an end. And another was just beginning.

"Ah Toshi, we made it!" Kondo said heartily, slapping his friend on the shoulder.

He tilted his head back and drank, setting his cup back down with a flourish. "My feet are so exhausted I can't feel them but," He smiled broadly as he looked around, "It's been a great sixteen days. What do you reckon Toshi, have you had fun?" He chuckled, rubbing his stubbly chin.

Then seeing as there was no response, he prodded him in the side. "Speak up, I can't hear you."

"Leave me alone," Hijikata growled, eating his pickled radishes at abnormal speed.

He was in a decisively bad mood, that afternoon, when the men had stopped to relieve themselves, he had tripped over a tree root and ended up in a thorny bush. His backside had suffered, as a result.

Kondo winked at him, then turned and started chatting with Inou Gensaburo, who was drinking just as enthusiastically as he was.

"I'm going to wake up early to start my sightseeing." Okita was happily informing Harada. "It was so nice of Kiyokawa-san to say we were allowed."

Harada lowered his finished bowl of rice then refilled his cup with sake. He'd refilled it quite a few times over the past half hour, his eyes were beginning to look glassy. But nobody minded it, for he was a harmless drunk.

"Forget that," he whispered, leaning in close, his face flushed. "How weird is it that we have to share this place with the Serizawa group?"

"For once, I agree with you," muttered Hijikata as he sipped his sake. Pressing the cup to his lips, he closed his eyes as heard Serizawa's group next door get louder and louder, one thing was for sure, _their _group would not succumb to undignified drunkness.

Okita was looking at him in amusement, as though he could hear what he was thinking.

Smirking, Hijikata asked, "Would you like more tea?"

"Souji, be a man and drink some sake," Harada slurred.

"Fortunately, I don't have to drink to feel manly," Okita responded cheerfully. "But I can see how it works for you, Harada-san."

Harada leaned back, in his drunkeness, he was unable to find a good comeback. Disgruntled, he turned his back on Okita and amused himself by counting the number of blossoms on a painting of a cherry tree.

Okita smiled as he turned his attention onto their surroundings. It was certainly nice to be treated like such honorable guests by such wealthy people. Even though this residence was only one of their Yagi estates, it was fine architecture.

They were a bunch of roshi being treated like nobles. And what if they became respectable samurai under the Aizu clan? Then he'd feel only a little more worthy. He wiped a few beads of perspiration from his forehead, it was getting stuffy. Maybe he would go outside and get some fresh air.

Standing up, Okita glanced around at everyone, busy talking and drinking. He was sure they wouldn't mind his absence. He quietly slid the shoji shut behind him. Then straightening the front of his gi, he proceeded down the hall.

He halted outside the section of the hall Serizawa was in, he could hear the man tell his group some daring adventure that concerned him. Souji heard raucious laughter, and briefly wondered what Serizawa had told them. Smiling slightly, he continued on his way down the hall, occasionally glancing at the scenery painted on the walls.

As he neared towards the end of the hallway, the voices of women talking made him stop.

Wasn't this side of the compound given only to the roshi? Maybe they were the cooks. He really shouldn't be heading any further, but for some reason, he felt compelled to eavesdrop on their conversation.

Okita stepped closer and suppressed a giggle as he pressed his ear against the fusama screen.

"Thank you dear but really, you shouldn't have. I would have come in the morning."

Okita recognised the voice as belonging to Yagi Masa. Personally, he liked her, she had been very kind and welcoming to them. Her husband had been rather silent and unfriendly, but Masa had gone to such lengths to prepare their rooms and dinner.

"But you've been so busy," replied another woman, who sounded younger. "It was no trouble for me to come. I know how long the queues can be in the morning."

Okita heard the sound of rummaging. Then Masa said, "Here is the payment. I hope it is enough."

"Don't worry about it, they're just some fruits and vegetables. I know how many men you have to feed now."

"But I couldn't possibly--"

"Please, Masa-han. If I go back with the money, my grandfather will be cross. You know how he is when he's in one of his moods." There was humour in the young woman's tone.

"Oh alright," Masa sounded amused. "You certainly are a sweet one, Meko-chan. Be sure to thank your grandfather for me."

"I will. Well, I'd better go now, or he'll snap at me for making him stand in the cold so long." There was a laugh. "Say hello to your sons from me!"

"Oh I will, dear. You take care of yourself, now."

Okita didn't withdraw from the screen quickly enough and he collided with the young woman and startled her.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, a hand rising to her mouth. "I'm sorry!"

"No, that's alright," Okita said hurriedly. He was embarrassed, he'd been the one eavesdropping, after all.

Masa stepped outside the room, smiling. "Is that Okita-han's voice I hear?"

"Yes, I was just er, looking for you." Okita lied.

"Well you found me."

She beamed at him, then turned to the young woman before she could leave. "Meko-chan, this is the samurai I was telling you about. Okita Souji. The one my boys like. Maybe it's because he resembles my brother Genta. Don't you think they look rather similar?"

They both looked at him intently and Okita's cheeks burned. He wished a hole would swallow him up right then and there.

The young woman smiled. "Yes," she agreed. "But he is missing the scar, and he does not have quite that many wrinkles."

"But he has the same sort of presence and he's good with children too."

Then seeing as Okita looked very flustered, Masa placed a hand on his arm. "Don't look so embarrassed dear, it's a compliment."

"I am pleased to have met you Okita-han," the young woman bowed. Then she added, "Your group is very lucky. Masa-han is a wonderful hostess."

"She flatters me," said Masa, beaming.

"No it's true," Okita said quickly. "We are very grateful." He felt the young woman watching him, and instinctively, met her gaze.

Surprisingly though, she did not avert her eyes. "I wish you good luck," she said softly, then turned and bowed to the older woman. "Good night Masa-han."

"Such a nice girl," commented Masa, ushering Okita back the way he came. "Don't you think?"

"I guess so," said Okita, looking uncomfortable.

Masa smiled kindly. For some reason the young man just seemed to bring out her motherly instincts. "So what did you need me for?"

But before Okita could come up with an answer, a brash voice interrupted them.

"Hello!" hollered a stocky figure as he staggered towards them.

Okita recoiled. The man's face was quite red, he was beathing heavily, and not looking very well at all. Masa's lips pursed together.

"Serizawa-han," she said tightly. "What are you doing out here?"

Oh, thought Okita, recognition dawning on him. Serizawa really did look different when he was drunk.

The Mito samurai let out a loud laugh. "Just comin' to see the pretty ladiess," he slurred, nearly falling over.

Okita frowned. The man was not part of their group, but for him to act in such a disrespecful manner in front of Yagi-san's wife, it was just unacceptable.

"Let me help you, Serizawa-san," he said loudly, grabbing the man's arm.

Masa gave him a grateful look, and quickly hurried off.

Serizawa scowled at the young man pulling him back towards the main room. He was taking him away from the beautiful woman! There wasn't any way he would let anyone get away with something like that. "You mongrel, let go of my arm!" he growled, swinging his fist.

Okita grabbed his wrist before Serizawa could strike him. "Not a good idea," he said softly, eyes dark and narrowed.

Serizawa stared at him. Then--

"Souji, where the hell have you been!"

"Hijikata-san," Okita turned in relief, releasing Serizawa's arm.

His friend scowled. "Kondo's asking where you went."

His gaze flickered to Serizawa, and there was no mistaking the contempt in his face. "What are you doing with this idiot, anyway?"

"Hijikata-san!" Okita admonished, with a hasty glance at Serizawa.

But thankfully, the man was too drunk to notice the insult. He bent over, and started to vomit.

Hijikata was disgusted. "What an embarrassment," he muttered to himself, turning away and walking off. Okita couldn't help but agree, when he reached their room and looked back, Serizawa was still wretching on the floor.


	3. The Yamoya Sweet Shop

Disclaimer: Peacemaker Kurogane belongs to Nanae Chrono.

**Chapter Two: The Yamoya sweet shop**

Mibu Village, March 10th, 1863.

The weeks had passed in a blur, so fast that Souji woke up thinking it had all been a dream.

Ever since Kiyokawa's announcement at Shintoku Temple on February 24th, the mood in their group had soured. They had come to Kyoto because they believed they had been called by the Shogunate as a defence. When Kiyokawa made his speech about how they were actually to serve the Emperor and thus must go back to Edo as the Emperor expected, the Sheikian dojo members had found it ridiculous.

"Our loyalty lies with the Shogunate," Kondo had quietly said. "We will not be accompanying you back to Edo."

Kiyokawa had been enraged that some of the Roshigumi were actually staying behind, and spent some time trying to persuade them otherwise, but to no avail. Their argument had come close to violence, but they still did not leave with the rest of the Roshigumi.

Knowing that their presence in Kyoto without being under governance would become an issue, Kondo and Serizawa had submit petition to Aizu. Until official word came back, they would wait.

Meanwhile, Okita and the others had been passing time by practising swordsmanship.

There hadn't been time for real sightseeing, and with the tension following Kiyokawa's speech, the men had decided they didn't feel like it anyway. Only Yamanami and the comedian trio, comprised of jokers Todou, Nagakura and Harada, had managed to get away to Shimabara, and came back with dreamy expressions and praises.

As for Serizawa and his men, well it seemed as though all they ever did was go out and drink. Even though Serizawa was the obvious leader of his group, he left everything up to Kondo, Hijikata and Yamanami. This infuriated Hijikata, but since it granted him more power in their affairs, he couldn't complain.

"Morning Nagakura-san!" said Okita brightly as his passed his red haired friend. "Will you be joining me for practise this morning?"

Nagakura paused, then turned and raised his eyebrows. "Won't you give a man some time to recuperate before you try and kill him again?"

Though his tone was humourous, his claim wasn't entirely false.

Okita was well known for getting carried away once he had anything remotely sword like in his hands. He was a talented swordsman, and back at the dojo, he'd been an instructor, and the youngest one at that. But he just couldn't adjust his power to meet others, and so often ended up hurting his friends without meaning to.

"I really am so sorry," Okita sounded remorseful. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Nagakura laughed lightly, scratching his head. "Heh, well it's good to know anyway."

Then seeing as Okita still looked downcast, he added, "Of course I'll join you. As if I'm scared." He snickered. "Let me just go throw cold water on Sano and Heisuke. Those bastards came back late last night, and they haven't been practising at all." He was suddenly grave. "They need a good beating from you, to put them back in their place."

Okita laughed, despite himself. He watched as Nagakura strolled off with a wicked smile on his face. Being the smarter of the trio, he loved to torture them so. He giggled as he thought of the look on Harada-san's face after he'd just been doused with a bucket of cold water.

Every now and then, he'd cheerfully greet the men who passed him by. He was good at memorising names, and already he knew each man in Serizawa's group.

"Neguchi-san!"

Okita waved as he paused in front of the fusama screen leading into the training hall. The samurai walking towards him was tall and thin, and reminded him of a stick insect. As the man saw him there, Okita knew all too well what the brief expression on his face meant. But he couldn't care less. Souji beamed as he blocked the man's path.

"Okita-kun," nodded Neguchi, with a sour look on his face.

"Ah, I knew you'd join me for an early practise session," said Okita happily, hands on his hips. "Well, you're right on time!"

"I'm pleased," said Neguchi, looking anything but. Souji knew his samurai pride would not allow him to decline a match. Excited that he had definitely caught someone to spar with him, he enthusiastically slid back the screen, and gestured for Neguchi to enter first. Reluctantly, the man did so.

Then Okita slid the screen shut, and cheerfully walked towards the shinai on the wall, only to find Hijikata standing between him and the rack .

"Oh hello," Okita was surprised. "I wasn't expecting you, Hijikata-san...but it's great to see you here! And right on time too. You and Neguchi-san can be first, if you like."

"I hate to burst your bubble," laughed Hijikata, "But Neguchi is not standing behind you anymore."

Without looking, Okita sighed. "I knew he'd escape," he said, shaking his head. _So much for samurai pride. _He grinned. "That means me and you first."

Hijikata shook his head. "No sparring today."

"What?" exclaimed Okita in disbelief. "But I thought you wanted us to practise, practise, practise! Isn't that what you said?"

So I did," answered Hijikata in an irritated tone. "But I didn't mention maiming or murder, did I?"

"You're being melodramatic," sniffed Okita, turning away. "As if I would be so cruel."

"You broke Hirama's arm," Hijikata pointed out.

"I didn't think he would freeze the way he did," complained Okita. "I would have tried to stop myself if I knew."

"Enough of this already," grumbled Hijikata. He ushered Okita back towards the door. "I have important work to do today. I suggest you refrain from adding to my headaches. Just go out and relax for a while. You know, out of all the men here, you're the last person who'd need practise to keep his swordsmanship in shape."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Okita turned his head, in the direction of the Yagi family's part of the residence. "You know, Hijikata-san, I might just take your advice. Katsu-chan has been pleading with me since yesterday to take him to the sweetshop."

Hijikata snorted. "Well there's the perfect reason."

IIIIIIII

"Are you sure this is the right way?" Okita seemed doubtful as he followed the seven year old skipping ahead of him. They had already passed several shops selling food and delicacies, and he had thought the sweetshop would be located there.

Okita turned his head and saw a shop with the sign 'Yamoya silk shop' on the front. "Katsu-chan, stop for a moment..."

The eleven year old at his side grabbed the back of his little brother's kimono, pulling him to a stop. "What's wrong?" complained Katsu, wriggling to get free. "The sweetshop's just over there!"

"Okita-han told us to stop," scolded his brother Asano. "You shouldn't be so rude."

Okita was puzzled. "It's just that this is where all the clothing shops are. I wonder if maybe the sweetshop was back in the last street?"

Katsu vehemently shook his head. "No, it's right there, Okita-han!" He pointed to the left side of the street. Souji squinted at the sign. "Yamoya Sweet shop," he read, smiling.

"See, I was right!" said Katsu triumphantly, giving his older brother a look.

Okita laughed as he followed after him. "So you were."

Upon entering the shop after the boys, who practically ran in there with excitement, Souji found his senses overwelmed by all the delicious smells. Looking at all of the different sweets out on display, from the plain ones to the finely shaped ones, he almost felt like a delighted child again.

"This place is amazing," he uttered finally. "Something tells me I'm going to be coming here a lot from now on."

"Well, I'll hold you to that."

Surprised, Okita turned and saw a plump middle aged lady smiling at him. Her hair was in a tight bun, and she had rosy cheeks. She looked just like someone who ran a sweet shop, Souji found himself thinking as he smiled back at her.

"I'm Hakano Midori," she added. "And you young man, who might you be?"

"Okita Souji." He bowed, then curiously asked, "Is this shop one of a chain? Because I thought I saw a Yamoya silk shop on this same street."

"That's right," answered Midori, beginning to wrap up the sweets the boys had chosen. "The Yamoyas are a wealthy merchant family. They have several businesses."

"I see," said Okita, his gaze wandering to the pinkish yellow candies sitting on a side shelf. Moving closer, he stared at them.

"Interesting," he murmured. "The colour, it reminds me of--"

"Dawn?" offered the lady with a smile. "Yes, everyone says that. Our young sweetmaker is always drawing inspiration from nature in her sweets. Currently, she's made dawn, sunrise, sunset, and dusk. But we've run out of the others at the moment." She laughed. "You can have 'dawn' though if you like."

"I'd love to Midori-san," said Okita apologetically. "But unfortunately, I don't have any money with me today." And not tomorrow either, thought Souji. Or the day after that. Or even the week after that. Right now, they were as poor as they could get.

"You're with those boys now, aren't you?"

Okita glanced at them, they were busy eating their sweets already. "Yes, I am."

"Well then, it's free for you too." Midori went over and emptied a few sweets into a brown piece of paper, which she promptly wrapped and held out for him to take.

Okita looked confused. "It's free?"

"Our sweetmaker absolutely insists that it is for these boys. And since you're with them, we can make an exception for you too."

"But..how do the Yamoyas feel about that?" Okita was curious, he kept picturing some snotty well dressed people. All the merchants he'd ever seen were like that.

"Well, Meko-chan is a Yamoya, and this is her shop, so I would say she knows best."

There was something familiar sounding about that name, he thought. "Do the Yamoyas also own a grocery store?" Okita blurted, suddenly.

"Why yes they do," said Midori, surprised. "Do you know them, Okita-han?"

"No...well I mean, I think I saw that sweetmaker you were talking about at the Yagi residence, which is where I'm staying. She was giving Masa-han groceries for free."

Midori laughed. "That's our Kameko, alright. So, what do you think of her?"

Now it was Okita's turn to look surprised. "Pardon?"

"Kameko. You were introduced to her weren't you? She and Masa-han are very good friends." She laughed, then leaned closer and whispered, "Masa-han introduces her to all the young gentlemen she meets. She intends on matching her up with someone, since she is of marrying age now."

Okita wanted to ask why he was being told all this, but he was given no chance to say so, for Midori was already continuing her little story.

"I know what you're thinking, a pretty girl like her ought to have no trouble finding a man. But the odd thing about this is.." Midori paused, as though building up to a very dramatic twist. "Kameko has been proposed to by quite a few men so far, and yet she's refused every single one of them!"

"How odd indeed," said Okita, hoping his reaction was appropriate.

Midori's eyes were twinkling now as she surveyed him. Okita shifted uncomfortably. Why was she staring at him like that?

"Masa-han was right about you," she murmured in soft delight. "You really are the nicest young man. Tell me, are you married?" Midori was watching him carefully now, like a hawk.

Okita blushed. Katsu and Asano were watching him as well. But at the precise moment Okita opened his mouth to answer, a customer strode in asking for the finest sweets they had. Midori happily obliged and when she turned her gaze away from him, he felt as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Wiping his brow, he smiled down at the boys.

"Asano-kun, Katsu-chan, time to leave."

Once out, Okita inhaled the dusty air and gladly welcomed the outside noise.

"Do you want to have a race, Katsu?" Asano grinned at his little brother. "I bet you can't run as fast as me."

"No way!" exclaimed Katsu. He looked up at Okita. "Okita-han, can we have a race back to our house?"

"Be careful," he replied gently. Cheering, they took off, and Okita smiled as he watched them run.

He found himself thinking about what Midori had been saying to him. She was really no different from all the other woman back in Tama who would often introduce him to their daughters. He would be teased by his comrades when they'd hear about the proposals offered to him, but he'd always turn them down, even if the mothers boasted about how beautiful or good their daughters were.

In a way he felt sorry for the Yamoya woman, he knew too well how it felt to be badgered that way. But then, he thought, maybe girls felt differently. His two elder sisters had been happy when they received proposals. He shook away his thoughts, and started to unwrap the sweets.

"Excuse me."

He frowned and looked around, but there was no one there.

"Must be hearing things," he murmured to himself. Then from behind him he felt a tug and startled, he jumped.

Okita turned to see a flustered young woman with packages at her feet. He blinked in surprise.

"Sorry," she whispered hurriedly, glancing at the entrance to the sweet shop. "But since you look as though you just came from there, would you happen to know if the woman behind the counter is Midori?"

"Yes," answered Okita, staring at her. She was wearing the attire of a maid...yet looked familiar. "Are you Yamoya Kameko?"

"I am," replied the young woman, looking suspicious. She took a step away from him. "Why?"

"Oh no reason," said Okita amiably, a little surprised that she hadn't recognised him herself. "It's just Midori-san was telling me about you."

"I see," Kameko said coolly, yet her cheeks were the faintest pink. "Well, I'll have to apologise on her behalf. You see, Midori-han is an old family friend, and she has this habit of.." She paused, looking uncomfortable. "...intervening in others' affairs. You'll have to excuse her."

"I didn't mind," Okita smiled.. "I understand how you feel. Back when I lived in Edo, there were a few mothers there who used all sorts of excuses to try and get me to meet their daughters. I lived in constant fear of my life," he added.

She was staring at him.

Okita instantly regretted his words. As usual, here he was spouting his head off to a stranger. And telling them all about his life. Oh the shame. To his surprise though, she started to laugh.

"You know, that is the first time a man has actually joked about it in front of me," she said, shaking her head. "And I don't feel offended at all. " She smiled. "In fact, I find myself sympathising with you. Being hounded by a prospective mother-in-law would be much worse than being hounded by a suitor."

"I know," Okita agreed mischievously. "I'd have your suitors anyday."

"Meko-chan, is that you I hear outside?"

Kameko's eyes widened. "Oh no!" she exclaimed in a whisper. "Midori-han!"

"Just hide behind the wall," Okita said quickly.

"Meko-chan?"

Okita picked up the packages.

Midori stopped in front of him, puzzled. "Okita-han? Didn't you leave already?"

"Oh I was just busy enjoying my sweets," Okita smiled innocently. "Thank you so much for them."

Midori pinched his cheek. "Any time!"

Flabbergasted, Okita held a hand to his cheek as she looked around, hands on her hips.

Wearing a disappointed expression, she turned back to him, then frowned and noticed the writing on his packages. "Why, that's the name of this shop," she said. Her brow furrowed. "Meko-chan was supposed to deliver them..." She gave him an odd look. "How on earth did you get these?"

"Well a maid gave them to me," replied Okita. "She said she didn't have enough time to personally deliver them, so I said I'll help her by giving them to you."

"I see." Midori looked displeased.

Okita could guess why, but he hid his grin. Politely, he bowed. "Well here you are then. I'm afraid I must be off now, or I'll be late for a training session."

"Yes, yes," said Midori absentmindedly, taking the packages and going back inside the store. "Goodbye then, Okita-han."

Okita peeked behind the wall, and as he had guessed, Kameko was gone. Grinning, he made his way back to the Yagi residence.


	4. Very Important News

Disclaimer: Peacemaker belongs to Nanae Chrono.

Chapter Three: Very Important News

Kyoto, March 12th, 1863.

Yamoya Silk Shop.

"...package three goes to Akane-han, Package four goes to Masa-han, and Package five goes to Omura-han." The little boy paused, waving around the piece of paper in his hands. "This is boring," he complained, scrunching up his nose. "Can I go now please?"

His sister shook her head.

"Souta, I think you made a mistake. Package four can't go out to Masa-han, she doesn't buy silk. It must be someone else. Would you have another look?"

The boy squinted at the list. "You're right," he declared, jumping down from the boxes he had been standing on. "It says Maka-han. Package four goes to Maka-han." When she nodded in affirmation, he quickly and hopefully added, "Can I go _now_?"

"Souta, be gone already," grumbled a voice from upstairs. "Your whining is quite insufferable."

"Thanks Gramps!" Souta exclaimed happily, scrambling towards the exit. "See you later, Meko-nee!"

"You know, I was hoping you'd help me with the deliveries today, Sou--" But before the young woman could finish her sentence, he had already zipped past her and out the door. She sighed. "Boys," she muttered. "I don't understand them at all."

"Souta's just a nine year old brat," remarked Yamoya Tsuyoshi as he came down the stairs, his pipe dangling from between his mouth. "What's to understand?" He paused, exhaling smoke, and his face creased into a smirk. "Or could you be referring to grown up boys maybe?"

When Kameko didn't reply, he stroked his beard and with a glint in his eyes, added, "So what was the verdict on Okita Souji?"

She stared at him, incredulous.

Yamoya laughed out loud, only to have it turn into a coughing bout. Kameko shook her head, muttering about smoking and bad habits, but when her grandfather regained his breath, he continued on, unfazed. "Midori-han tells me everything, you know. Actually, she tells anyone who'll listen. She and Masa-han are plotting again. Ever since the failure of Yanoto Ukeha, they're twice as determined as before."

"It doesn't bother me at all," Kameko answered curtly, promptly walking outside to begin loading the packages onto the cart. The servant boy who had been waiting outside looked up immediately. "Ma'am," he bowed, rushing to assist her.

"Oh please," wheezed Yamoya, his voice carrying outside. "Just tell me how he proposed. I always enjoy the speeches."

"Well, you'll be disappointed then. You see, there was no proposal." Kameko stepped inside, brushing back her bangs with a triumphant gleam in her eyes. "Okita Souji is not the least bit interested in marrying me."

Her grandfather was not pleased with this information. "We're one of the wealthiest merchant families around!" he exclaimed, indignant.

Kameko picked up another package and exited the room. When she came back inside she asked, "Don't you think it is possible that there are men who are not interested in marrying for wealth?"

Yamoya grunted. "Absolutely not."

"So when you married my lovely grandmother, you married her for wealth?"

Her grandfather's eyes clouded at the mention of his late wife, and Kameko suddenly wished she hadn't spoken. But then the look disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, and Yamoya retorted, "Well no, because obviously, I was already rich."

Kameko shook her head. "You married her because you loved her."

Did he think she didn't know? Kameko had never forgotten the stories her mother used to tell her before she fell ill. How her grandparents had been deeply in love with each other, despite the consequences. How her grandmother had inspired Yamoya to pursue what he loved most, the art of making sweets, amongst the other aspects of his inherited business.

How, when Kameko's own mother had fallen in love with a poor samurai who had visited a shop of theirs oneday, her grandfather had not objected to their unconventional marriage. Even though the young and cheerful grandfather of her mother's stories seemed very different to the sarcastic and moody one that he was now, Kameko had always sensed that he was still the same man.

Sometimes, when she'd stay up all night, trying out different recipes, coming up with a new blend of flavours, and he would smile and test them, or when he'd tell a rare joke about the days when he had been as obsessed as her, she felt closer to him.

But other days she felt like she didn't know him at all, and these days were the hardest.

"Love!" snorted Yamoya, taking another drag on his pipe. He blew out smoke, and his lip curled. "People don't marry out of love, how many times do I have to tell you? People marry because they are supposed to. And if that Okita Souji knows what's good for him, he'd marry into a wealthy family like ours. I'm going to die, sooner or later, and Souta's still an ignorant child. The business has to go to someone. Don't you care about that?"

"I _do _care." Kameko looked away, her face shuttered. "But..."

Sometimes Mother, sometimes I think you didn't tell me those stories at all. That I simply made them up to comfort myself about my future, to comfort myself because I knew you were going to pass...and that I would be alone with him, my scary and irritable Oji-san.

"...I'm just not interested in marrying right now." She paused, her face uncharacteristically blank. _Not now, not ever_. "And especially not someone who is only thinking of money."

"Well, beauty plays an important role too. Does that make you feel better? It should. I can't understand why that insolent boy didn't propose to you. You're a handful, but you're definitely a good looking girl." He nodded, and smirked. "You take after me, of course."

_I do take after you...It's obvious to you isn't it, Grandfather? You don't know that I know about you, about your past, but I know why you feel frustrated sometimes when you look at me..._Inwardly, she sighed, out of the irony of it all_. You see parts of yourself in me that you wish you didn't._

On the outside, she forced an amused expression as she replied, "Is that so?" She busied herself by picking up the list Souta had discarded, and putting it away. Then she started to clear the room of the few cartons scattered in the front. "I think perhaps you hold too high an opinion of me."

Her grandfather scratched his nose as he gave her a critical look. "Perhaps you're right. If you looked like this when Okita saw you, no wonder he was scared away. You dress like a maid, for God's sake. And that untidy hair! Why, no proper young lady would have her hair so peasant looking." He was warming up, apparently there were more faults with her then he first thought. "And the worst part is that you insist on doing the work of a man, and if you don't change that, then--"

"Grandpa."

Kameko sighed as she glanced at him, reclining against the counter like he was in his twenties and not his sixties. "Please don't scare away the customers while I'm gone."

IIIIIIII

Evening.

Gion District.

"Did I ever tell you the story of when I faced up to a bear and won?" Serizawa asked after enthusiastically downing a cup of sake. His neat ponytail and refined samurai dress made him look like the respectable man he was not, Hijikata thought as he stared at him.

"I'm not interested," he said sourly, looking into his cup to further prove his point. Of course, staring at the clear liquid was more interesting than having to listen to another of Serizawa's grand tales. Of how he had defeated this. How he had saved this. _Oh please. _

If Hijikata had to listen to one more story, he would scream. Yet today, it seemed it was all he was hearing, and understandably, he was feeling bad-tempered.

This morning, when they had found out that Aizu were taking charge of the Roushigumi that had stayed behind, and that they now officially had their purpose back, Hijikata had been in high spirits along with everyone else. It seemed things were finally looking up, and the news had sparked a real air of comraderie between his and Serizawa's men. Personally however, Hijikata disliked the Mito samurai more than ever.

Serizawa had been boasting all day that it was thanks to his connections in Aizu that they had the good news, and not the efforts of Kondou and Hijikata. It was true that his brother was an official within Aizu, but still, the man could have a little more modesty, Hijikata thought as he scowled to himself. If it hadn't been for the fact that Aizu was paying for their party in Gion and it would be rude for him not come, he would have stayed behind at the Yagi compound rather than be in Serizawa's presence.

Kondo gave him a knowing look as his geisha companion poured him another drink, leant in close and whispered, "Toshi, maybe the reason you despise him so much is because you are alike." He laughed merrily as he slapped his knee. The geisha sitting prettily beside him, laughed daintly behind her hand. Kondou's broad laugh was the most amusing she'd ever heard. Perhaps all men from the country laugh this way, Katsuno thought to herself in amusement. Perhaps she would voice this later.

Hijikata choked as Kondo's comment hit home. "Don't compare him to me," he hissed, eyes narrowed.

"I wasn't comparing," said Kondou, and he winked.

The geisha pouring sake for Serizawa laughed softly covering her mouth with a silken sleeve. "Why, Serizawa-han, even if these men don't,_ I _would love to hear the story," she said sweetly, ever so slightly pressing her leg against his.

Serizawa puffed his chest out. "Well it all began when I was trekking in the mountains in Edo..."

"Running from the authorities, I imagine," commented Hijikata, and Katsuno giggled. She was becoming used to being ignored by Hijikata all evening, yet his comments truly made her laugh. There was just something unconventional about the man. He uttered his words as though he didn't care who they offended. And she suspected he didn't.

"Won't you tell us _that_ tale Seriza-han?" Katsuno asked slyly. "It sounds much more exciting."

Hijikata snickered.

IIIIIII

Evening.

Yamoya residence.

"I don't believe you!"

Kameko stared in disbelief at the plump woman in front of her. "How could you arrange this without my knowledge? Midori-han, this is unacceptable. I won't go!"

"I do apologise for not asking you," said Midori, not apologetic at all. In fact, the very air around her seemed to bubble with excitement.

It is obvious Midori thinks herself very clever at this moment, thought Kameko, frustrated and tired. It was a late hour, and she thought the night would be uneventful. Midori didn't usually talk about the suitors and she and Masa-han arranged for her when they were in the middle of cleaning.

Midori had been hired by the Yamoya family initially to look after Kameko and her younger brother after their mother passed, but soon Yamoya had given her more control, she was in charge of the sweet and silk shops, and the cleaning and general management of the Yamoya household. Kameko had never been the type of person to allow others to do things for her which she was capable of doing herself. This was a mentality that Midori assured her was not a good one, but Kameko knew it would not change.

The only problem was that this meant she and Midori spent a lot of time cleaning and managing things together. Which meant ample time for Midori to discuss all of the things that Kameko needed to change about herself, but thankfully during these times she never brought up marriage and suitors. A clever thing, because they both knew the cleaning and managing would never be done if they spent all the time arguing, which was what usually happened when Midori brought up marriage and suitors.

And it doesn't help that we live in such a large compound, thought Kameko in sudden irritation, as she looked beyond the open shoji screen and towards the beautifully kept gardens. The full moon twinkled on the koi pond's surface, and finding herself distracted, she quickly slid the screen shut and turned back to Midori, who seemed ready to argue her cause for bringing up the topics which were not to be brought up during their cleaning and managing times.

It is really my own fault for not intervening before these meddlesome ladies went too far, thought Kameko as Midori came closer towards her in determination. No, courtesy had done her no good at all. "I meant it when I said I won't be going," she insisted, trying to appear firmer than usual. "You'll just have to let him know."

"But he's so sweet and charming!" cried Midori, alarmed that the girl might actually refuse.

Kameko could hear the cicadas outside and wished they were loud enough to drown out Midori's voice. "Those were your exact words regarding Okita-han," she replied with an exasperated sigh. "Those are your exact words regarding _every _man, my dear Midori-han. If it hasn't worked before, why do you think this time will be any different?"

"And Okita-han was such a lovely boy," sniffed Midori. "It would have been so nice having him around. You don't think of your future at all!"

Tired, from both the cleaning and conversation, Kameko sank down on the floor, staring glumly at the worn rag in her hand. "Midori-han, how am I supposed to finish cleaning this room if you keep bringing this up?"

"You don't even _have _to clean," pointed out Midori.

"Yes, but I like to help you."

"Meko-chan, your grandfather _pays _me."

Kameko sighed again, inwardly. It seemed there was no way out of it. Midori was remarkably talented when it came to being a hassle, so it seemed she would just have to go along, or the woman might convince her grandfather to finally ban her from all activities except cooking, sewing and tea ceremony she thought grumpily. She remembered what Midori had said earlier about their latest catch being the youngest of all the suitors, about the same age as her.

She made a quick decision.

"Meko-chan?"

With a bright deceptive smile, Kameko looked up. "Midori-han, I've decided I will go. But on one--"

"Wonderful!" Midori interrupted, beaming as she clapped her hands together.

'"--condition."

"_Condition_?" The woman looked suspicious. "What sort of condition?"

"I agree to meet this Todou Heisuke you so fondly speak of. I will dress and behave like a proper young lady according to your wishes. But if it so turns out that he is not interested in courting me, then you will promise to stop finding suitors for me, period." She paused, then added rather petulantly, "Masa-han too, because I know you're in it together."

Midori grinned, then stepped forward and pinched her cheek. "My dear, it's a deal!" she exclaimed happily. She hummed as she turned back to her cleaning, dipping the rag into the bucket of water and wiping the floorboards with much more enthusiasm.

Kameko stared at her as she also went back to cleaning, with _less _enthusiasm than before. _I hope I didn't just plan my own funeral,_ she thought dismally as Midori began loudly singing a love song

IIIIIII

Gion district.

Yamanami stifled his laughter as Heisuke whispered his Very Important News in his ear. "Todou-kun, " He pushed his glasses up his nose and tried not to laugh. "You musn't get your hopes so high." He lowered his cup and added, "Women are not that easy to win over."

Heisuke grinned, and raised his eyebrows. "Why Yamanami-san, I'd have never imagined _you_ to be the jealous type!" He placed his hand against his heart, and dramatically added, "But you're mistaken! I don't have to win her over. I just know we're made for each other, that fate is bringing us together for a reason."

He sighed, his eyes suddenly soft and shining with tears. "It's all so beautiful I don't think I can bear it," he sniffed to the geisha next to him, who was looking at him with a bemused expression. "I think I need more sake, my heart is fluttering like a bird..." He held out his cup with a trembling hand.

"I think you've had enough," commented Nagakura, shaking his head in amusement. He placed his hands over his head and muttered, "He's such a hopeless romantic fool."

"I'm actually quite worried," Yamanami whispered as he leaned forward. "If he is rejected, he may not live through it."

Nagakura snorted. Heisuke harrumphed loudly, having heard him. "You may laugh at me now," he declared, running a hand through his hair, "But once I have that divinely beautiful girl as my wife, you'll all be very envious!" He hiccouphed, eyes glassy, face flushed. "Gosh, I'm starting to feel faint..."

"Haha, divinely beautiful!" chortled Harada. "You haven't even seen her yet! For all you know, she could be ugly as a mule!"

"Don't be mistaking his luck with yours," said Nagakura slyly.

Across from the now bickering trio, Okita smiled happily as the geisha beside him played her shamisen. The gentle music made him forget he was even sitting there in the room, it seemed to make the laughter and the voices fade. He found himself thinking of the long journey to Kyoto, and how it seemed their next one had finally begun.

Trouble is brewing in Kyoto, the Capital is going to become very violent. More ronin are pouring in and becoming more outspoken against the Shogunate...taking advantage of the peoples' fear.

There is no doubt that many people will ally with such rebels, falsely believing they can expel the foreigners. And then those loyal to the Shogun will have to act...

Now Aizu has accepted us...and soon it will all become official with the coming ceremony of Lord Matsudaira...and our loyalty will be official. When the time comes to defend Kyoto, will I be able to act? I have only ever killed one person before and that...and that...

Okita shuddered and massaged his suddenly throbbing temples.

Stop thinking ahead, he instructed himself firmly. Thinking ahead did not seem clever like Hijikata believed, it was depressing, because obviously a war was going to break out sooner or later. Souji knew Hijikata was preparing himself for his role in such a war, he could see the steely determination in his face ever since they first submitted petition.

But personally, Okita preferred to take each day as it came and not dwell on the future.

He thought of the previous morning, when he had gone to the sweet shop with the Yagi boys. That had been fun. He laughed quietly as he thought of Yamoya Kameko, the rich girl who had been dressed as a maid, and the shop owner Midori's expression when she came outside to find her gone. He wondered what happened with them after that. He hadn't had any chance to go into the Capital since then, he'd been too busy with his swordsmanship.

"Did you like it, Okita-han?" the geisha asked softly as she gracefully lowered her shamisen.

Okita blinked, and smiled. "That was very beautiful," he said truthfully. "...You wouldn't mind playing it again, would you?"

"Of course not," replied the geisha, amused. "But first, you should drink. I've only poured you one all evening, and you still haven't touched it." She offered him the cup and Okita was about to decline, but seeing the smirk on Harada's face, he smiled graciously.

"Thank you Ichiume." Okita tilted his head back as he drank.

In trying to get the better of Harada, who was watching him with great interest, Okita threw his head back a little _too_ far.

Ichiume gasped in alarm as his eyes widened and he choked.

Harada slapped his knee and roared with laughter, startling the timid maiko next to him.

"Ha ha, Souji you idiot!"

Okita's loud coughing began to fill the room. All the geisha and the men were staring at him now, some in amusement, some in concern. Even Harada quietened down, watching him nervously. Hijikata was scowling, which meant he was worried as well.

"Souji!" exclaimed Kondo, leaning forward. "Are you alright?"

"Ke ke!" said poor Okita, face turning red.

"Oh dear..." Kondo paused, looking apprehensive. "Perhaps someone ought to take him outside..."

"No need."

Kondou glanced at the one sitting next to Okita with a bored expression. The man placed a cup of water in Okita's hands, and both surprised and grateful, his friend drank. "He'll be fine," said Saito Hajime calmly. "It seems the spirits were right when they said I would need water this evening."

There was an uncomfortable silence at these words, in which all eyes were on him and Saitou, so Okita put down his cup and weakly asked, "Ichiume, won't you dance for us?"

The men cheered, eager to be treated to another of the geisha dances, and instantly forgetting what had happened.

Okita sighed good naturedly, it would be revisited later, he was sure. He smiled as he watched Ichiume's slow unwinding movements with her fan. For now, he could just relax and enjoy the moment, without any interruption. For now.


End file.
